Distant
by JezebelDelilah
Summary: The is an Arya/Saphira story. Please do not read it if it will offend you. Arya is a rough girl, hurt by her previous relationships, especially Anu. Saphira is used to caring for herself. Both have poison's in their veins and need to learn to let it go.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is my first attempt at a FanFic in a very long time. Forgive me if I happen to be rusty. Also, I tend not to capitalize letters (stupid MySpace…), so lets hope the computer knows what its doing, in case I forget.

These characters, obviously, are not mine. They belong to Christopher Paolini. I'm just adding my own little twists. Actually, it seems more like I'm taking the characters, rewriting them, then setting them in our world.

I haven't a clue where this is going really. I'm just kind of writing what comes to mind. I hope you don't mind.

* * *

Her hands were holding onto something, she couldn't tell what. It was warm, kind of squishy and moved in a rhythm. Kind of smaller then bigger and back again. Finally, Arya opened her eyes a sliver. What she saw was a head that was covered in fiery red hair, curling at the ends and mussed from sleep. A bare, feminine back faced her, covered at the bottom for a while. Leaning up, she saw long legs and black toenails. The woman twitched.

Anu, her name was Anu. The woman sat up, the sheet falling away from her front, revealing full breasts and a nasty bite mark on her rib. _Oops, _thought Arya.

"Where did I put my clothes?" Anu asked. She had cold grey eyes, marked by dark smears underneath. Arya could imagine that she had the same problem. Neither of them had slept much.

Arya pointed in the direction of everywhere and got off, moving her own naked body toward her bathroom. She didn't expect Anu to remain, she never did. After the door slammed she slumped into the bottom of the tub. Hot water poured over her head, turning her back and scalp a horrible red, she knew. After a while, she got up and cleaned herself. The shower smelled like vanilla when she walked out, just in time to see her door push open.

Murtagh walked in, surveying things like he owned the place. He did, so Arya didn't mind. Arya was living in a flat she rented from Murtagh, a gift from a father he never knew.

Murtagh's lover Eragon walked in shortly after the former, barely glancing at her as he started to raid her fridge. "You found an enthusiastic one last night." Murtagh said, walking to her and examining her back. He trailed his finger along her back and Arya winced.

"When did you last clip your nails?" Arya snapped through her clenched teeth. Murtagh's hand came up in front of her showing short, well groomed nails. Her eyes bugged and she rushed to the mirror she generally ignored. Turning so her back was facing it, she looked into it. There were scores of angry red lines, some thin, some thick, marring her back. A few had held scabs, she was sure. If they had, they were ruined by her shower. When she was done examining herself, she padded to her dresser just as Eragon walked in, holding an apple and trash bag with little lumps. "How much did you girls drink last night?" He asked as he set it down with the audible clinks of glass.

Arya scrambled through her few memories of the night before. "Um, well, I remember having, at the beginning of the night, about four fifths, six twelve packs and a pint. Don't ask me what they were, I probably drank from all of it." It had been her twentyfirst birthday, but definitely not her first endeavor into alcohol. "Bri left around eleven, she had to go to work today, Delma and Falon left at one, they wanted to be alone."

She had purposely left out Anu's name, as she knew what they would say. She must have still had alcohol in her system because Murtagh and Eragon both caught her slip. "So who was enthusiastic?" Eragon said it, but Murtagh knew. They both did, but Eragon had the naïve hope that she wasn't hurting herself again.

Silence ruled for about half a minute as Eragon and Murtagh shared a knowing look and Arya pulled on a pair of low rise blue jeans, sans panties. She almost had her black push up bra on when the silence exploded into angry, half heard sentences.

"You told me you weren't inviting her. That's the only reason I deemed it alright for me to take Eragon out last night, instead of coming to the party." Murtagh had a voice like silk over iron when he was angry. It was soft, but she couldn't ignore the anger waiting to be released.

"I didn't invite her." She mumbled it through a low cut black t-shirt. "She kind of showed up on her own. It was after Bri left, I thought she would leave when the other two left. Obviously she didn't." Arya was numb, she didn't know what she felt.

The woman had thrown her life into a happy tailspin at one time. It started out wonderful, but then Arya had come home one day to the older woman's bags on her steps and her packing up her make-up. "It was fun, love, but you know how I get. I'm bored." She said it as she threw her mascara into the bag and zipped it. Later, Arya had found out that the woman had been sleeping with at least four other people, one of them a man. Anu had been her first endeavor into a relationship, her first lover. It had hurt to be shoved aside like a play thing. The woman's last words still stung and made her eyes water. "Did you honestly think I loved you, that I'd keep you around?"

Suddenly, Arya was on the floor, crumpled into a ball. Her eyes leaked her sorrow, but the poison stayed in her veins. This was not the first time she had been back. Arya feared it wouldn't be the last.

Eragon came and hugged her, as Murtagh went into the kitchen. "Why do you always let her hurt you?" He mumbled as he hugged her.

After Anu had left, Sarah, Kendra, Cam, Bridget, and Fidencia had followed. None had stayed, but Anu always knew when to come back. When she was open to a love and leave.

Murtagh came back from the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate and a shot of colorless liquid. "This to make you warm, this to make you strong." He gestured the hot chocolate and then the vodka.

She closed her eyes, wishing to sink into the floor.

* * *

I know, it wasn't absolutely fantastic. But I'll write another, to give it a fighting chance.


	2. Chapter 2

Scanning the newspaper, the woman tucked a strand of blue and blond hair behind her six times pierced ear. Tapping her also pierced lip with an impatient finger, she finally saw an add worth reading, instead of glancing at. A man, a Mr. Rider, was looking to rent an apartment to someone. Well, a flat that was awfully close to another. Close as in sharing the same roof with. He owned both.

The monthly price was decent, and she wanted to check the neighborhood. When she arrived there fifteen minutes later, it seemed nice. Saphira pulled a gleaming black cell phone from her black velvet purse and dialed the number she had circled. When it picked up, a nice voice answered, while a medium tone male voice and a sweet sounding female voice. Not high enough to give a headache, but not lower than Saphira knew hers to be.

"Hello, this is Saphira Tatsu, and I was calling in regards to the add you placed in the paper about renting a flat?" Her voice sounded too sweet to her. She hated her shyness to talk to someone on the phone. She could insult a bull runner in six different languages to his face, but get him on the phone and she was a sweet little girl.

"Oh, yes. Just a moment." Saphira heard muffled talking and the woman's voice laugh. It was a deep laugh, but feminine deep. A couple clumps and the sounds were all muffled. After a second, the man continued. "Well, if you saw the add you obviously know how much I'm asking. It's a nice neighborhood, so it isn't an exorbitant fee. Is there any time you would like to come by?"

Saphira smiled. "I'm standing in front of it. It's quite nice." There was a click noise and her phone showed a blinking time, 0:56. The phone call had been disconnected, and not from her end. Her eyes glared at the phone with an intensity that would have blown it up if it were possible.

The door opened in front of her and a decently attractive man stepped out. He had black hair that looked like someone had spun night for it. His eyes were dark brown, they almost looked black. He wore a pale blue shirt, laying loose against his pants. The pants were plain blue jeans, tight enough to look good, but loose enough to need your imagination. He had black shoes on. Tennis shoes.

Saphira was still mad about being hung up on so she started to turn. "Miss Tatsu?" The voice from the phone came out of the man and she looked at him. Then she started laughing. If she got this place, her landlord would be the same age as her. He looked to be no more than twenty two.

He cocked an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth curved up. No doubt he was having the same thought. "I'm sorry, that was just odd. I was ready to storm off and call you a nasty one but, I guess, there is no need."

Mr. Rider smiled, his lips curving gracefully. "Hopefully not. Things were starting to get uncomfortable for me, so I left. I didn't even think to tell you that I would be down." He was looking at her in a calculating way.

Calling him Mr. Rider, even in her own head, was beginning to seem pointless. He was the same age as her. "I'm sorry, but what is your name? I know it is M. Rider, but what does the m stand for?" She sat her weight on her left leg, with her right bent. She fumbled around in her purse, putting the cell phone back and getting out a pack of gum. Suddenly, the hankering for Winterfresh had become unbearable.

"Murtagh." He said simply as he pulled aside the door and gestured her in. She wiped the bottom of her pale blue Converse tennis shoes on the welcome mat and stepped in, taking in a very earthy looking hallway. Everything was done in shades of brown and red, with a few dark greens and blues thrown in.

There were two doors, one close to the entrance and on the right. It had a small bronze peephole at about head height of the average person, and around it was a risqué picture of Marilyn Monroe. Saphira had the thought that whoever was behind that door couldn't be that bad if they had Marilyn on their door. The other was at the end of the decently sized hallway and on the left. It was plain with the same bronze peephole.

Murtagh opened the door with the Marilyn poster, sticking his head in on a man and a woman. The woman was exotically pretty. She had obviously green eyes that were tilted slightly up at the outer edges. She had full pink lips and nice curves. Her hair was straight and black, cascading down her shoulders. It didn't look as if it had been dried very well, but it fit the woman. She wore a black t-shirt, low cut, and a pair of dark blue jeans. Her toenails were outrageously red, and it was the only real look of color about her, besides her eyes.

The man was interesting as well. He had curly dark blonde hair that fell to just above his eyes. His eyes were grey-blue, they would probably be tipped in a direction if he wore blue or grey, but he wore yellow. A pale yellow, not like a highlighter. His jeans were loose and he wore work boots. He was laughing and poking the woman, obviously trying to make her smile. Instead, she smacked him on his chest.

"I'm taking an applicant to see the flat, I'll be back soon." He blew a kiss into the room, but Saphira was unsure who it was intended to find. The door shut and he walked down the hall. Opening the door, she noticed first that it was beautiful. The couch and chair matched, but didn't look expensive. They looked good and comfortable. The basic colors of this flat, instead of the usual beige, was black and white. It looked quite lovely.

After touring the entire thing, Saphira signed papers on the spot. She had fallen in love with the place and was moving in. It was going to take a large chunk out of her savings, but she paid for the deposit, three months rent, and for a spare key.

--

Okay, I know that was kind of dull. I'm still trying to figure out which way I want a certain something to go.

On to different news. Don't always expect me to update this often. I'll probably gave something to do this summer…. Hopefully.


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